


Combat Baby

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, Blood Kink, Dean's sweet, Dirty Talk, F/M, Jo likes him nasty, Kinda, Name-Calling, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-15 02:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: AU if Jo was never ripped apart by a Hellhound and if she and Ellen were never blown up in that hardware store. Jo goes back to college, lives in a dorm, Dean comes to visit once in a while.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square Filled: AU
> 
> Ship: Dean x Jo
> 
> Rating: Explicit
> 
> Tags: rough sex, biting, slight blood kink?, dirty talk, name-calling, Dean’s sweet, but Jo likes him nasty
> 
> Word Count: 682
> 
> Written for @spnkinkbingo

Music thumps and myriad voices hum from outside the moonlit room. The sounds inside are hot and breathy, sweet and thick. He’s heavy, twisted with her lithe frame, and sweating.

“Jo,” her name is in his breath, her hair silk in his hands. “Wanna be inside you so bad.” He kisses her neck and scrapes his teeth over her dewy skin.

She whines. “Dean…”

He groans and rolls to his back in the tiny dorm room bed. His elbow bumps the wall, but he’s still holding her, pulling her on top of him so she can straddle his hips. “Ride me, princess,” he says, his wide smile sparkling in the gentle light.

Jo reaches behind his head, over the headboard to her desk drawer, rummages for a condom. She shifts backward, lets him push his boxers over his hips, watches his dick spring free, and her mouth waters. She uses her mouth to roll the condom over his thickness, and he bucks up into her heat.

He grunts, grips her thighs hard just beyond her knees.

Jo grins and wiggles her way back up his body, pulls her thong aside and sinks down onto him. They each groan and quake. She grips the headboard with one hand and splays her other over his heart, his bare chest.

“God, I missed you,” she breathes, swiveling her hips and grinding over him, ramping up the heat. “Missed this.”

She tosses her head back to get her hair out of the way and the tips tease Dean’s knees. He wraps an arm around her waist and hauls himself to sitting, brings one knee up and pushes his fingers into her tangled tresses, pulling her in for a kiss. She balances over him and whimpers at the change in angle.

“Nobody fucks me like you do,” she says against his mouth and he growls as much as a man can, gets up momentum to push her to her back, grips the foot of the mattress and hooks a forearm under her knee, hammers into her like that, and she shouts.

“ _God_ , Dean, so good.” She pulls her bottom lip between her sharp teeth until she tastes copper. “Bite me. My… my shoulder, my neck. Pull my hair. _Fuck_.”

He does it all, he always does, and he keeps fucking hard into her.

“Call me your dirty girl,” she whispers. “Tell me how dirty I am.” She bites his earlobe, feels the scrape of his teeth as they leave wet welts on her breasts and collarbones.

“You’re my dirty, little bitch, baby,” he murmurs into her ear before licking a thick, hot line over her jaw. She trembles beneath him. “Love fucking this filthy, wet cunt.” His words are punctuation for his thrusts – each serving to hit her every spot, every need, every kink.

Dean’s so sweet; when Jo can turn him nasty, she gets off on it. She likes him rough, mean, sharp and biting. “Dean,” her voice and body shake. She’s coming undone.

Sweat slicks between their bodies. Dean drops a quick kiss to her lips before pushing up to his hands and knees, spreading her wide and railing into her.

Within three heavy thrusts, Jo comes screaming.

~~~~~~~

“Thanks for comin’,” she says, wrapping the silky robe tight around her middle. She loves it when Dean comes to visit, but she hates it when he leaves.

“Yeah,” he says, tightening his laces then standing to grab his jacket from her roommate’s bed. “Thanks for… ya know.” He looks bashful, eyes drop to his boots as he shrugs into his jacket.

She walks him the short distance to the door, they stall. Then Dean’s eyes land on hers, warm grass on a blue-sky day. “See ya,” he says softly, reaching up to cup her cheek, and she leans into it, nodding, eyes closing.

She hears him sigh heavily and his hand is gone. She doesn’t open her eyes to watch him leave, but she feels the heat and her ears split from the noise of the hallway party as it spills around his departure.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets jealous.

Jo texts him less than a week later. It’s some meme she saw on Twitter, thought it was funny, needed an excuse not related to her libido, her loneliness, her daydreaming about him holding her down tight,  _just right_ …

Her classes aren’t going well at all, not that she’ll tell Dean that – or anyone else for that matter. Everything’s a lie, anyway; she doesn’t tell Ellen anything real about school, her roommate, her shitty grades, and her inability to focus on anything other than Dean. She definitely doesn’t tell Ellen about Dean.

And her roommate thinks she’s just some naïve, small town girl. Her roommate’s from Omaha, thinks she’s cosmopolitan or some shit. Jo couldn’t give less of a fuck. The girl’s got a head full of air and cocaine – all bought on her daddy’s dime.

“You wanna come with?” Callie asks, side-eyeing Jo up and down from where she sits deftly applying another coat of mascara. “Or’re you just gonna sit here all night waiting for sexts from Carhartt Daddy?”

Maybe her roommate knows more about her than she thinks she does.

“Where you goin’?” Jo asks, only vaguely interested, wanting a distraction, thinks maybe some beer and loud music might help – except those things only remind her more of Dean.

“Frat party,” Callie answers, ‘duh’ heavily implied. Her eyes pointedly rake over Jo. “You’ll need to change. Got anything besides jeans and tank tops? And flannel?”

Jo rolls her eyes. “Not here I don’t. Left all my  _fancy_  shit at my mom’s.”

Callie huffs a wry laugh. “Well, lucky for you, we wear the same size.”

They don’t. Callie’s at least a C-cup, but the rest of her’s the same. Jo figures she can make something work.

Twenty minutes later, Callie’s putting trained waves in Jo’s already naturally wavy hair and coaching her on eye-makeup application. “You’re lucky. You don’t need a lot of makeup to look hot. Guys don’t like make-up anyway.”

Jo drags in a deep breath and thinks about the time Dean let her put eyeliner and lipstick on him. He looked like sin and it made him so hard that she was so turned on. God, she didn’t even wait for a condom before yanking his pants open and sinking onto him where he sat in her dorm-issued desk chair, the very chair in which she sat at that very moment.  

“Hello…” Callie snaps her fingers over Jo’s head to catch her gaze in the mirror. “You got it bad.” She sighs, switches the heated wand off and sets it aside before fluffing and tousling Jo’s hair to create a disaster. “I mean, I get it,” Callie continues. “He’s really fucking nice to look at, and from the sounds of it, he must know what he’s doing with his dick, but-”

“Can we not?” Jo asks, shooting Callie a death glare over her shoulder. Callie raises her hands, palms open in surrender. “Let’s get our drink on.” Jo stands and crosses the room to her closet. “What shoes?” she asks, looking up at Callie.

Callie waits for two beats, watches Jo shift her weight then heads to her own closet. “Here.” She reaches down and grabs a pair of soft, dark pink leather booties. “These’ll do. I bought them specifically for those shorts.”

~~~~~~~

The party’s loud, humid, and stinking of sweat and beer. Jo’s glad she wore shorts, but the exposed skin is a liability because drunk boys can’t keep their sticky hands to themselves. Or, it would be a liability if she wasn’t looking to get laid.

She loses Callie five minutes after they arrive, continues to check her phone for replies from Dean and finds nothing. Then a cute boy approaches her. He reminds her a little bit of Sam only shorter, and she remembers the night Sam was possessed by the demon Meg and assaulted her.

Jo decides that this kid is her best option – no way she’ll get attached, maybe she can get rough. His eyes sure are innocent. She talks him out to the back porch against his argument that “somebody might see.” But this kid can’t resist her.

That’s how Dean finds her in the dark with – Josh? Justin? – Jason. She’s sitting on a picnic table, feet on the bench, knees spread with Jason’s hand up the inside of one of the legs of her tiny pink shorts. She’s just starting to pull her bra top down, starting to guide Jason’s face to her tits when she hears him.

“Got your message,” Dean says. “Tracked you here.”

He looks so big standing there, shadow looming over her and Jason, his moonlit jaw working on something. She wonders if he’s jealous, embarrassed, angry. She doesn’t know what to say, so she reacts.

She slowly pushes Jason out of the way, slides from the table to her feet, rights her borrowed clothes then makes her way toward Dean. “You tracked me?” she asks, stopping one foot in front of him.

“Your phone,” he clips, eyes so dark – definitely angry. The emotion she sees there makes her clench and squirm under his gaze.

She was a hunter once, sure, but Dean Winchester is legendarily dangerous, brutal, lethal. Memories of seeing him using random found objects surrounding him to destroy otherworldly creatures makes her all the way wet like she could never be without him. All the Jasons in the world could never.

“What the fuck, Beth?” Jason slurs his words and stumbles around her. “Who’s this guy?”

“Friend of the family,” Jo mutters without taking her eyes off Dean. “Go back to the party, Jason.”

The kid grunts and shuffles his feet. “Whatever,” he mumbles as he ambles away. “Fuckin’ cock tease.”

Dean’s eyes flare and he literally snarls as he turns to grab Jason’s arm. “What’d you just say?” His voice is deathly low, and Jo knows without ever having been in this predicament with Dean before that he’s about to take his frustrations with her out on this unsuspecting civilian.

“Dean, wait,” Jo grabs at anything she can, catches her hand around his elbow and pulls. “Let him go, it’s me you’re mad at.”

Jason shrugs Dean off with a smug look like he’s just won some fucking prize. Jo rolls her eyes and Dean turns back to face her. “You set this up on purpose?” he asks taking a step, forcing her to walk backward. “Wanted me to watch you gettin’ fingered by some frat douche?”

Jo shakes her head, bumps into the table, her knees buckle, and she sits. “No, I didn’t- I had no idea you’d come up here, Dean.” She stares up at him, feeling her skin heat. He doesn’t say a word, just works his jaw some more. “But I’m glad you did.” She reaches up, hooks her fingers over the waistband of his jeans, and he grunts.

“That easy, huh,” he says, shuffling closer, kicking her feet apart so he can invade her space. “Josh’s out and I’m in, is that it?”

“Jason,” Jo corrects him and is immediately reprimanded.

Dean grabs her hair, wraps it around his wrist. “Christ, you’re a smartass,” he says through his teeth, yanks her head back, sidles in even closer. “Get my dick out.”

Jo is on fire. This is real. This is happening. Dean, always the sweet and gentle Dean, always having to be coaxed to rough her up, always so hesitant, is lording over her, commanding her. She’s almost coming from the possibilities alone.

As she sets to work on his belt and button fly, his eyes glitter dangerously as his tongue catches behind his teeth. Jo shivers with anticipation. She can’t wait for what’s next.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean fulfills a fantasy of Jo's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPN Kink Bingo Square Filled: Exhibitionism
> 
> Ship: Dean x Jo
> 
> Rating: Explicit
> 
> Tags: Dean fulfills a fantasy of Jo’s, rough sex, dirty talk, exhibitionism, role play, squirting, talk of fisting, Dean’s sweet, but Jo likes him nasty
> 
> Word Count: 1108
> 
> written for @spnkinkbingo

He slides over her bottom lip and tongue. He feels like velvet, tastes like the ocean. Jo’s never been able to pinpoint why he tastes the way he does – always the ocean, like seaweed and salt, storm showers and sunshine, lightning.

Dean sighs and she can feel him relax, adjust his grip and his positioning. He uses the backs of his knuckles, his other hand, to caress her bulging cheek. She looks up at him, and he’s looking down at her like she’s fragile.

He doesn’t treat her that way, though – not right now, anyway. Right now, Dean’s doing just what she wants. He’s going to fuck her face, her throat; he’s going to hold her down and make her scream; he’s going to make her beg. Later, much later, he’ll treat her like a crystal goblet of Bordeaux in a room full of white.

After a few moments of testing her gag reflex, muffled sounds from inside alerting her that at least one person is watching, Dean pulls out. “Get up on the table, on your back,” he rumbles, pumping himself and backing up enough to let her do as she’s told.

Once she’s settled, Dean moves in close to hold her head in place, face toward him, and he pushes inside her mouth again.

He yanks her shorts open. “Lift,” he commands, and she arches her hips enough for him to get the garment and her underwear out of his way. “Wet panties, so filthy, baby,” he whispers and slides his middle and ring finger just inside to drag the tips up and back over the spongy patch just behind her clit.

Jo moans around his thickness, wraps her fingers around the base. He fucks into her mouth like that with his cock and plays with her cunt until she comes quick. Then he really gets going.

He pulls out of her mouth again to round the picnic table. Jo tries to watch him, but he’s too fast. He’s facing the window. He’s about to give whoever it is that’s watching a really great show.

Dean grasps Jo’s upper arms and drags her to the edge of the table, head hanging over the side. He pushes past her lips again, and her head swims. Then he’s pulling her bra top up to expose her breasts, grips one tight and takes the other in his mouth. He lets her take him as she can, but he ravages her body with his hands and his teeth.

Jo can hear squeals from the other side of the window when Dean finally buries his face between her legs. He wraps his thick arms around her thighs, holds her open and licks her clit to ass and back. Her legs go limp when he pushes two then three fingers inside her.

The sounds he makes, the moans and the smacking of his lips, the wet and his breath. Jo feels so fucking wanton, so dirty, so bad and wrong, and so fucking right. Dean eats her with the kind of reverence and enjoyment that she’s only ever known of from porn. And she’s letting all those sad-sack partygoers experience it live.

But she’ll never let even one of them experience Dean first-hand. Ever.

Dean yanks her hips again to an angle, and she can feel splinters abrade her skin. He plants heavy arms on the insides of her thighs, holding her even wider open than before. She’s leaking wet now, knowing anyone there can see her spread wide for him as he twists four fingers inside her.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers between licks and sucks. “Bet you could take my fist right now.” He huffs a laugh, and she shivers, swallowing against the heft in her throat. “Fuck, Jo, that what you want? Want me to fist this tight pussy for everybody to see?”

Jo groans and writhes. But he doesn’t do it. He just keeps knuckling into her, slow and hard, her slick mess is pooling on the table, smearing her thighs and his hand.

The thought of coming now, coming on his hand, while he fucks her mouth, turns her skin to fire. She pulls back and he slips heavy from her lips. “Dean…” Her throat convulses from use. “I’m gonna…” She swallows hard. “I’m gonna come so hard and wet,” Jo whines.

He chuckles, sucks her clit between his lips and pulls, curls his fingers into a fist and grinds his knuckles over that spot. “Good girl,” he says, sloppy and slick. “Let’s show these bitches how good you can squirt, sweetheart.”

Jo groans and clenches almost every muscle in her body, guides his cock back into her mouth, and takes him all the way down.

It’s like the world’s biggest waterslide, whirling, swirling in her own body, wet and wild, blood rushing in her ears, and Dean whispering the sweetest of nothings when she splashes at the bottom.

~~~~~~~

It takes a minute. There’s a rustling of curtains, thumping against the window and giggling and shouting from inside.

Dean helps Jo back into Callie’s clothes and down from the picnic table. He hovers around her, tucks her hair behind one ear. “I, uhh…” He shakes his head and looks down at his shuffling feet. “Walkin’ back through that party ain’t part of your little fantasy, is it? ‘Cause-”

Dean’s excuse is interrupted by light applause. It’s Callie. She’s smirking as she walks out onto the porch alone. “Well done, you two,” she says, resting her hands on her hips. “You’ve succeeded in making this frat party even hornier than the  _average_  frat party.”

Jo laughs a little and rolls her eyes. She’s blushing, but deep down she really couldn’t care less. She’ll likely never see any of these people again except Callie, and… well, oddly, she doesn’t care what Callie sees.

“Thanks,” Jo says, realizing that Dean is doing that thing he does when he wishes he could meld into a wall. “Callie, this’s Dean.” Jo introduces her roommate and Dean, they nod to each other and shift awkwardly.

Dean clears his throat. “Lemme take you home,” he says, turning to face her firmly, standing straight and tall. His posture tells her that he’s not going to take no for answer and that when they get ‘home’, he’s going to balance out this exhibitionism and Dom act with a whole lot of pampering.

Jo almost swoons. “Yeah, ok,” she says with a small smile then turns back to Callie. “You good?”

Callie nods. “Yeah, I’m shacking up with Jeff tonight. Room’s all yours.” She smiles brightly and winks. “’Night, Dean,” she sing-songs before disappearing inside, leaving Dean and Jo to themselves.


End file.
